


hardcorewings.com

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 08:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel knows the moment his brother walks through the door that something is very wrong.

"What happened? Who do I have to kill?"

He's only partly kidding. Castiel is more than strong enough to take care of himself, but there’s plenty about him that attracts weirdos and losers. Those that can be deterred with physical strength, Castiel could handle, but the ones who need to be told off verbally are sent to Gabriel.

"What? No, no one. It's nothing like that," Castiel says distractedly. He drags his shoulder bag over his head and sets it down beside the door. "They're downsizing at work. I've been let go."

Oh, that's not good. That's very not good. They're barely scraping by with both their paychecks. Take one away and they're in serious trouble.

"You fucking work your ass off for that piece of shit store. Why'd they let you go?"

Castiel falls onto the couch with a frustrated sigh that tells Gabriel there's nothing to be done more plainly than any words could. Already his mind is racing. Getting help from home is out of the question. Their parents had cut both sons out of their lives the moment they realized Castiel and Gabriel were determined to live amongst the humans. Castiel will have to start looking for a new job, of course, but the chances of him finding one before the rent check is due are pretty low in this shitty economic situation.

"Someone had to go," Castiel says forlornly. "Gabriel, what are we going to do? I already filled out several applications this afternoon after it happened, but..."

"Yeah. Okay, let's not freak out yet," Gabriel says with calm authority. Inside, he's a squirming mass of worry, but as the older brother, it's his job to keep Castiel from panicking. "Do some online applications tonight and I'll see if Carl has anything for you at the call center. Just don't worry. I'll think of something."

Castiel's expression is a mix of relief and skepticism. His natural inclination is trust Gabriel to make everything okay. It wouldn't be the first time. But he knows the economic climate as well as anyone. If they do get out of this mess, it's going to be through sheer luck.

And perhaps a bit of Gabriel's own brand of brilliance.

********************************

The idea comes to him at three in the morning. He's having trouble finding a comfortable spot in the short human bed he'd been forced to purchase when it hits him.

Wings.

There are tons of freaks on the internet who pay good money to see a hot naked angel flash his or her wings around. With only about fifteen percent of the Earth population angelic, a kind of obsession with angel wings has flourished and some people take it a step further to a sexual fetish that Gabriel's used to his advantage many a time. But why give it away for free when they could charge money?

Gabriel is self-aware enough to know he wouldn't get a good payout. Not because he's ugly, but rather because his wings are average fluffy white things that end at his mid-thigh. Attractive, but not exactly porn worthy.

Castiel on the other hand? The kid somehow ended up with massive sprawling silver wings that drag the ground behind him. Between their size and unusual color, not to mention his ethereal good looks, they could make a fortune off him. Gabriel doesn't know why he never thought of it before.

Actually, that's not true, he thinks as he punches his pillow and turns over.

In his life, Gabriel's never met a more prudish angel. Oh sure, Castiel has a healthy curiosity and interest in sexual encounters. He just won't commit to going through with any. Half the guys Castiel likes are freaked out by the wings and the other half are way too passionate about them. Gabriel's not entirely sure Castiel is a virgin, but he'd be willing to bet their dwindling funds that he is. Convincing Castiel to strip out of that big tan overcoat and pose his wings for the camera won't be easy. Especially not when Gabriel explains his viewers are going to want him to do more than just stand there.

But rent's due in two weeks and if they can't pay, they'll be out on the streets and with no one to help them.

In this case, their very survival might depend on Castiel jerking off on camera.

Gabriel stares at the ceiling. He has a gift for talking people into things. It's why he's so good at selling magazine subscriptions over the phone. He'll just have to approach Castiel the same way he does his customers. With determination and a refusal to accept a 'no'.

With that shaky plan in place, Gabriel is finally able to drift off to sleep.

********************

 

Castiel feels his wings tremble faintly as Dean backs him into the corner, the smell of old paper fading under the onslaught of Dean's own unique spicy scent. Dean holds Castiel against the shelf with his body and buries his hands in Castiel's thick soft feathers. His body warms under Dean's touches. It's strange that neither are speaking. Neither acknowledging that they're in the library where anyone could see Castiel rub himself on Dean's thigh and offer his neck to Dean's lips.

Strange, but wonderful.

He never thought he'd get to this place, wrapped tight in Dean's arms. How he ever got up the courage to speak to Dean, Castiel doesn't know. Can't remember even. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is how wonderful it feels to press his erection against Dean's hard thigh, his release so close Castiel aches with it. Harder and faster his hips piston as Dean sucks bruising kisses along his jaw and squeezes the sensitive flesh where his wings join his body.

And then Castiel is giving a startled yelp and coming and waking up alone in his small human bed.

He winces and carefully lifts himself off the bed. Obviously it was a dream. Stalking a man by hiding in the stacks of the library where he works hardly constitutes a relationship. The only reason Castiel even knows his name is because he heard another staff member say it once. Dean's gruff 'yeah?' in response had been the first word Castiel had ever heard him say and even now, the memory of that deep voice makes Castiel's spine tingle.

He's got it pretty bad.

But Dean is unattainable. Humans so rarely want angels as anything other than a novelty and though Castiel thinks he'd probably go home with Dean anyway, he knows he'd regret it when he inevitably developed feelings for the human.

"Damn," he mutters as he stalks into the bathroom to get ready. There's nothing he can do about the situation and he's got far more important things to do than mope over unrequited affections. After class, Castiel has an entire afternoon and evening of job hunting waiting for him. Joy.

"You looked like you slept really shitty," Gabriel comments when Castiel appears in the kitchen.

"I didn't exactly have much reason for restful sleep," he snaps.

Gabriel hands him a bowl of oatmeal.

"Yeah, me either. Actually, I've been thinking."

Castiel really doesn't like Gabriel's tone. It's too defeated for his liking.

"What?"

"Rent's due in two weeks and with what you have left and what I have, we just don't have enough to cover it," he says, not quite meeting Castiel's eye. Nervous tension grows in the pit of Castiel's stomach. "Which is to say nothing of paying the utilities. Castiel, I...I just don't see how we're going to find the money in time."

"But..." Castiel can't quite think. There's no way Gabriel is saying what he's saying. Gabriel's always taken care of things. When their parents kicked them out of the house, Gabriel somehow managed to get them to Earth and into a place to stay. How could there be no way to fix this?

"I hate to say it, you know I do, but I think we might have to go back to Heaven."

“No," Castiel hisses. "I won't go crawling back to Mother and Father now. Not when I'm nearly finished with my degree. I can't. I'd rather live on the streets than do that."

"Well, that might be your only choice!" Gabriel snaps, his hazel eyes now angry and firmly fixed on Castiel's face. "You think I like this any more than you do? I'd do anything to stay here."

"So would I," Castiel declares with utter conviction. Honestly, at this point, he can't think of anything he'd rather do less than return to the home that made him so unhappy.

"Yeah?" Gabriel narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "Anything at all?"

"Absolutely."

When he thinks about it later, Castiel really shouldn't have been surprised by Gabriel's evil grin.

*********************

"You have to be joking," Castiel says faintly.

His eyes are glued to the computer screen where a buxom young angel girl straddles the lap of a human man and uses the force of her pretty brown wings to ride him. It's a short thirty second preview that ends with the option to pay for the full ten minute video at a rate that shocks Castiel. He understands the idea. They'd make a fortune in a very short amount of time, if Castiel proved popular. But there's no way he's going to have sex on camera. Not even to stay off the streets.

"You don't actually have to screw someone, Castiel," Gabriel assures him, patting one silver wing comfortingly. "I want to pimp you out, but not that far."

"I can't say how much I appreciate that," Castiel grumbles.

"Look, all you'd have to do is show off your wings."

"Just my wings?"

Gabriel bites at the inside of his cheek. "Well..." he hedges. "Probably more than that."

This has to be the most appalling conversation of Castiel's entire life.

"You want me to sell images of my naked body on the internet," he intones.

"Just think of it as art," Gabriel says with a cheery tone that suggests he believes it's an amazing idea. Castiel wonders if he'd feel the same were he the one disrobing before who knows how many anonymous perverts. Although knowing Gabriel, he probably would.

"I don't think I can do this, Gabriel. It's too embarrassing-"

"Okay, look. I'm your brother and I didn't want to have to say this, but you leave me no choice. You, Castiel, are seriously hot."

"Gabriel!" Castiel yelps.

"It's true, though it pains me to admit. You've got those big blue eyes and pouty lips and the biggest wings I've ever seen. You'd make enough in two weeks to pay rent for a year and no one you know will ever see it," Gabriel argues.

"How do you know that?"

"Well, okay, some humans might see it, but they'd never admit to looking up wing porn on the internet and certainly no angels back home would ever know. It's either this or start looking for park benches to sleep on." Gabriel glares down at him, arms crossed over his chest. "You said you'd do anything and if I thought I could get as much money, I'd do it in a heartbeat, but let's face facts. Women love me for my amazing personality. They love you for your huge wings."

"I don't want women to love me," Castiel says petulantly.

"You will if they pay for it."

Castiel sighs. The idea of being naked in front of strangers terrifies him. He has no experience with that kind of vulnerability. But Gabriel does have a point. No one they know in Heaven even has access to the human internet and none of Castiel's human friends have ever mentioned a wing fetish. This website is only for wing kink fans. It's highly unlikely they'd ever stumble across it. And he wouldn't have to touch anyone. So it's a little like posing for a nude art class. Except you don't see the artists.

Which is probably better, actually.

"I'm very uncomfortable with this," Castiel states for the record.

Gabriel claps him on the shoulder.

"Me too, buddy. Trust me."

There's enough sincerity in his tone that Castiel actually believes him.

"Maybe...for a short time," Castiel mutters.

Living on the streets really isn't something Castiel wants to try, for all his bravado. And going home is out of the question.

"Sure, yeah. Keep looking for another job and we'll save up some dough in the meantime," Gabriel agrees. "It'll be fine."

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to take my clothes off in front of a camera," Castiel despairs with a groan, leaning back in his chair to cover his eyes. He never imagined when he first arrived on Earth that his life would come to this. Earth seemed like such a wonderful opportunity and now here they are, crushed under the unfeeling weight of economic crisis.

"Oh right, and also, you'll probably have to jerk off too," Gabriel adds.

"What?"

***************

"I'm having second thoughts," Castiel says right as Gabriel opens the door to the offices of hardcorewings.com.

"Castiel," Gabriel huffs. "Two weeks. Losing our home."

"Easy for you to say," Castiel mutters, slinking past Gabriel into the building. "You get to stay clothed."

"How is that the more fun option?"

Castiel doesn't get to answer because they're interrupted by a low whistle.

"You, darling, are hired."

They turn to see a well-dressed human man with a greedy gaze locked on Castiel's wings standing beside a welcome desk where a blond human woman sits, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're Castiel Milton, yes?" At his nod, the man claps his hands and gestures to a hallway. "Excellent. I'm Edward Crowley. Your interview is with me. Shall we?"

Castiel flashes a nervous glance to Gabriel, who gives him a thumbs up. Castiel would take his comfort more seriously if Gabriel didn't then turn away to flirt with the blond receptionist.

He follows Mr. Crowley down a hallway decorated with generic pastel abstract paintings and giant ferns in golden pots. It's disturbingly normal for a place that films porn for the internet.

"Did you honestly mean I've been hired?"

"Oh yes. There are few qualifications at hardcorewings, love and a set of big gorgeous wings is the most important one," Crowley says, leading them into an office just as normal as the hallway. There's nothing to indicate that everything in it was purchased with porn money.

"Well, that's...nice," Castiel says lamely.

"Your brother mentioned you weren't interested in partner videos?"

"Absolutely not."

Crowley shrugs, though Castiel thinks he looks disappointed.

"Suit yourself, but your paycheck could be doubled."

"No," Castiel reiterates.

"Well, no matter," Crowley says, clicking away at his computer. "You'll be a hit regardless."

Compliments shouldn't make Castiel feel so cheap. Although, he supposes he is cheap now.

But then, cheap is preferable to homeless.

"Right, so this is how this works. You'll film a few videos that will go up on our site. If they are popular enough, we'll give you a live shift. That's where the money really is because customers have to keep paying to keep watching. We'll take a share of the profits, of course, but much of those fees will go straight into your pocket," Crowley explains. "Your conduct is under your own control. We'll never pressure you into doing more than you're comfortable with or film you without your knowledge. Here's a contract that says basically the same thing. I'll give you a moment to read it."

It takes more than a moment. The contract is quite lengthy. It outlines the rules and reassurances of privacy and fair treatment. There's a section about health screenings for those doing partner videos and another about how he'll be paid. Really, it's so thorough that Castiel feels himself start to relax. It's like a real business. Just any other job, except it pays a hell of a lot better.

Castiel signs the form.

"Wonderful! Just a few more things we need to do to get you in the system and you'll be ready for your first session."

His nerves leap. He's really going to do it. Today, soon, Castiel's going to undress for money.

He might throw up.

**********

"Hi, I'm Jo. Follow me."

Castiel trails after the blond receptionist down the hall to another door. She opens it, revealing a totally different kind of environment. There's a large camera pointed towards a soft velvety red couch in front of a set of thick blue curtains. The lights are low as if to create a romantic atmosphere. Castiel blinks.

"This is..."

"Yeah, some viewers like an expensive looking set. We start newbies here. Is that okay?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Yes."

"Great. This is Chuck. He's your fluffer. Now excuse me, I have to go make sure your brother isn't screwing with the stuff on my desk," she says, disappearing out the door with a whip of blond hair.

"Fluffer?"

The Chuck in question is a short scruffy human man in glasses and a tattered flannel shirt. He steers Castiel to a chair and pushes him down.

"It means I'm gonna fluff up your wings and groom them for the show," he says, already tugging at one of Castiel's errant feathers. "Geez, these things are enormous."

"Yes," Castiel says quietly, embarrassed. It's been ages since another person groomed his wings. It's actually very nice. Chuck keeps his touch gentle and professional, like any other wing-dresser. He hasn't had the money for professional wingcare since he left Heaven. Doing it himself is difficult and at the best of times, Castiel looks like he just rolled out of bed.

"I'm gonna puff them up pretty big," Chuck says. "People will pay more."

"Ah, okay."

There's a silence that grates on Castiel's nerves. This man is prepping him for porn. He can't just pretend it's not true.

"You don't like wings?" he asks. Most humans with a wing fetish would be aroused by now.

"I don't hate them or anything, but they don't do anything for me," Chuck says with a shrug.

"Then why work here?"

Chuck opens a bottle of wing mousse and pours some in his palms.

"I'm a writer who hasn't sold anything. They pay good money here."

He spreads the mousse through Castiel's wings, forking his fingers through the feathers to puff them up. Castiel raises an eyebrow at himself in the mirror. It's a rather aggressive wingstyle. As opposed to Castiel's normal sedate flat wings, Chuck is creating a look that would signal to any angel that Castiel was on the prowl for a immediate sexual partner. Humans aware of angelic mating rituals will understand the signal and probably find it just as arousing.

"You're very good at this."

"I've been here for awhile," Chuck says. "I know more about angel sex than I ever wanted to. There. You're done."

Castiel stares at himself. His wings are sleek and shiny. Several feathers stick out aggressively on the arch curve, a very modern sexy look. He can't believe he can even look like this.

"Wow."

"Uh huh."

Chuck goes to fiddle with the camera and turns it on.

"I'm just gonna leave this on for you. Are you going to be okay?"

Truthfully, Castiel isn't quite sure.

***********

After Chuck leaves, Castiel remains in his chair for a long moment. Crowley told him that they'd edit the video later and that he could take his time. Also, that he doesn't have to actually strip in front of the camera, at least not at first. Castiel is quite grateful. Sooner or later, he'll learn the moves, but for now, Castiel thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he tries to gyrate like a stripper in front of that camera.

Okay, you can do this. Just flare your wings, masturbate like normal and pretend you're all alone.

The pep talk isn't very effective, but it does get him out of the chair and carefully undoing his shirt buttons. He undresses completely, folding each item neatly and laying them together on the chair. Warm air washes over his bare flesh. Castiel appreciates that bit of thoughtfulness.

With one last deep breath, Castiel walks in front of the camera.

His nerves instantly paralyze him. He's being filmed. Naked. His stomach ties itself into knots. The only reason Castiel doesn't instantly retreat is the memory of his father's cold blue gaze as Gabriel told him he and Castiel were going to leave and nothing couldn't stop them.

Castiel can do this. For Gabriel and for himself. To survive, he can do this.

Crowley assured him that he only had to display his wings in traditional mating positions while bringing himself off. Nothing fancy. The only real restriction is that he has to film at least fifteen minutes. As nervous as he is, Castiel doubts that will be a problem.

The first thing he does is turn his back to the camera and stretch his wings out to either side of his body. The outline of his huge silvered wings along with a good look at the curve of his back and ass should be an exciting introduction.

If you're into that kind of thing.

************

Sam rolls his eyes as Dean's head turns to follow the angel.

"You have an illness," he says.

Predictably, Dean just smirks and watches until the angelic man is out of sight.

"The heart wants what the heart wants."

"Right. The heart," Sam says with a snort. "Why don't you just find an actual angel and date them? Oh that's right. You're scared of angels."

"I'm not scared of angels," Dean grouses. "I dated Anna, didn't I?"

"Like twice and you dumped her because you said she was scary," Sam reminds him.

"She was scary," Dean declare as he unlocks the apartment door. "And not because she was an angel."

"Whatever," Sam says, heading to his own room and calling back over his shoulder, "You're an winger and you know it. Real angels are less expensive than internet angels."

"Fuck you."

But Sam's already closed the door. Whatever. He's wrong. Dean isn't afraid of angels. They might be a little intimidating, but he's not scared. He's just never met an angel worth more than a one-night stand. Internet angels might be more expensive, but they're easier.

Speaking of which, that's not a bad idea. It's been a few weeks since Dean visited his favorite porn site. A smile grows on his face. Screw Sam. He's going to look at hot people with wings.

Once he's safely locked in his room, Dean turns on his laptop and logs onto hardcorewings.com. He's had an account here for almost two years, but he only downloads the videos once or twice a month. He's not exactly made of money. But it's been over two months since Dean's had a real date and he's pent up.

The second he's logged on as ku_1967, a still capture from a new video catches his eye. A slender back, round shapely ass and a pair of fucking gorgeous shining gray wings. Dean's cock twitches.

"Hello," he murmurs, clicking on the video. It's a flat rate price that Dean instantly pays. The flat rate videos are a better deal.

Not that Dean wouldn't pay for the live show. This angel has the hottest wings Dean's ever seen.

It takes an annoying ten minutes to download the full video, but eventually Dean clicks play. The cheesy music makes him wince. He turns it down and settles in to watch.

************

Castiel shakes his wings out, letting the feathers ripple from joint down to the tips. It's what he would do if a partner were watching him. Castiel places a palm on his stomach. He needs to think of this as if someone were there. Someone to please and arouse.

Of course, Dean immediately comes to mind. Castiel imagines him sitting in the nearby chair, bright green eyes locked on Castiel's naked body.

A jolt of pleasure stirs the beginning of an erection and Castiel breathes out a sigh of relief. He hadn't been certain he could get hard.

He slowly flaps his wings while brushing his palms up his chest and onto his neck, an especial hot spot for Castiel. He thinks about Dean biting down on the sensitive flesh and heat flashes through his body. 

A few more moments of warming up his potential audience and Castiel turns to lay on the couch, leaning back to display his body, his wings draped in a fetching arc over the arm.

**********

By the time the angel lays down, Dean's completely hard in his pants. He reaches down to unzip and release his erection. The angel looks even better from the front. His pleasure glazed eyes are an incredible blue Dean likes just as much as the silver wings pouring off the couch onto the floor.

Damn, those thing must be eight feet or better. Dean grips his cock and hisses, trying not to come. It's so easy to imagine burying his face and hands in those thick feathers. The way the wings are puffed up and thrashing sends a rush of heated pleasure through his veins.

As he watches, the angel spreads his legs, lowering one to the floor to display himself fully and rubs his hands over his chest. Dean puts himself in the scene, straddling the angel's lap and bending down to kiss and bite across his well-toned chest.

His erection throbs in his hand and Dean is almost angry. Why aren't angels this hot in real life?

**********

His imaginary Dean gets up from the chair and kneels beside the couch. Castiel imagines him removing his glasses and smiling slyly at him as he sets them aside. He'd lean over to kiss Castiel's stomach, one hand gripping Castiel's thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his left wing.

His cock thickens further and Castiel slides a hand down to grasp at it. His breathing is loud and harsh in the empty room. He has to bite his lip to keep from calling Dean's name as his imaginary lover runs his tongue over the head of Castiel's dick.

A quick pause to collect a handful of lube from a pot on a small nearby table and Castiel is stroking himself in earnest, head thrown back and wings continuously fluttering.

***********

"Holy fuck," Dean whispers.

The angel's wings are thrashing and jumping, a sure sign of intense pleasure. Dean thinks about those same wings pulsing against his body as he holds the angel from behind and thrusts inside that fantastic ass.

He's stroking hard and fast now, more turned than he's been in a very long time. On the screen, the angel squirms and lifts his hips into a tight fist. The way he moves, so effortlessly sensual, as if uncaring he's on camera, as if he's so into touching himself that nothing else matters strikes desire deep inside Dean.

The angel is beautiful.

************

Castiel pants and writhes on the couch. Pleasure blinds him to everything. Nothing matters now except his mental image of Dean leaning over him and pushing inside Castiel, his pretty green eyes aglow with pleasure. His wings stretch straight out, stiffening as orgasm approaches.

So close, Castiel thinks, thrusting hard into his hand.

************

Dean leans forward eagerly when the angel's wings go rigid. Not long now. Dean can't look at all the things he wants to see. The angel's hand moving in a blur over his cock. The long pale column of throat revealed when his head falls back. The oh so responsive wings hardening and releasing over and over as the angel works himself to orgasm.

It's when he adjusts his position to slip a finger inside himself that Dean loses it. His pleasured tension breaks in an explosive rush as he comes so damn hard over his hand, his eyes locked on the angel's lips as they move around words Dean can't read.

************

Castiel comes across his stomach, his body tensing under the onslaught of pleasure while his wings relax for the first time in several moments. It feels so good, surprisingly good and Castiel can't stop himself from giving into the fantasy.

"Dean," he whispers. "Dean."

In his mind's eye, Castiel sees Dean staring down at him, watching him intently with affection shining in those amazing eyes. His dick pulses weakly once more and Castiel sighs.

It's a very nice fantasy.

************

Dean watches until the last second and then instantly subscribes to the angel's channel. The second he uploads another video, Dean wants to know about it.

************

Crowley hands Castiel his first paycheck.

"We'll get a direct deposit set up and of course, this is just the first of a series of checks you'll receive for that video. I'd like to have you film another collection of one-time view videos with various positions and toys, perhaps one where you strip on camera if you're comfortable with that. You're already immensely popular, so I'm thinking of starting you on live shows within the month. Does that sound fair?"

Castiel barely hears anything Crowley is saying. The check in his hand is more than enough to cover his half of the rent. In fact, it's enough to cover the whole rent and then some. He's not had this much money in hand all at once since he came to Earth. Castiel knows it's only the result of his job, but it feels like a miracle.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Oh yes," Castiel says, coming back to his senses. "I'm just shocked by this amount."

"Your video is number two on the site already," Crowley says with apparent delight. "The only person beating you is Greta, but she's had a large following for several years now. I'm quite impressed. I trust you still wish to work here?"

It's only been four days. None of the places to which Castiel has applied have called back. And while he's still embarrassed by this line of work, he just can't afford to pass up the chance to save up more money. Especially not when he's getting such a large pay-off.

"Yes. Wait, did you say toys?"

Crowley grins.

"Oh yes. Let me show you."

*************

Dean checks to see if Silver has posted another video.

Okay, so the guy goes by the name Stefan, but Dean hates it. It doesn't suit the angel's brand of artless passion. He's too genuine and even naive for such an obviously fake name. Dean can't really say what gives him that impression about the angel. Just that sometimes Dean catches a glimpse of faint surprise on the angel's face. As if he can't believe he's doing this and what's more, that he enjoys it.

So Dean rejects the name Stefan and calls the angel Silver in his head. It's been a few weeks since he turned up on hardcorewings. He's the only angel Dean bothers to follow. Last week, he tried watching one of Greta's latest videos, but it bored him in comparison to Silver's innocent passion. Dean's been ruined for other angels, but he doesn't mind.

Unfortunately, there's nothing new.

Right then, his favorite video it is. Dean opens the video where Silver kneels on that red couch and uses a dildo on himself. The position emphasizes both his incredible ass and gorgeous wings. And the little heated looks he tosses over his shoulder at the camera gets Dean further faster than just about anything he’s ever seen. This video is his favorite because it's so easy to pretend he's pressed up behind Silver, his arms encircling Silver's waist, his hands clutching the top of the couch and those huge soft wings brushing continuously over Dean's arms and sides.

It literally only takes a moment for Dean to get completely hard and then the next several moments pass in a very pleasant manner.

**************

Sam doesn't care what Dean says. Comic books are awesome.

Besides, what does he know about entertainment? The guy spends way too much time online nowadays watching kinky videos of big-winged angels. Pervert. There's no way Sam's going to let Dean make him feel like a dork for eagerly showing up at the comic book store for the week's new releases. At least Sam watches normal human porn.

He's got his nose stuck in a bin of old Batman comics when he hears a familiar voice that he can't quite place. Some guy arguing with the store owner about the latest X-Men storyline. It's when the guy says something along the lines of, "I could write way better stuff" that it hits Sam.

"Chuck?"

Chuck spins towards him and grins.

"Sam, hey. Wow, I haven't seen you in forever."

"I know!" Sam abandons the Batman comics to walk to Chuck's side. "How ya been?"

"Same as always. Unfortunately."

Sam snorts. Chuck had always been a bit of a downer. A nice guy, but a bit too fond of drinking and complaining. They'd known each other as undergraduates. Sam had gone onto law school, but he gets the feeling Chuck hadn't made much progress himself.

"So what are you up to? Still dating Becky?"

"Ah, no. No, she dumped me when I got my new job."

"Wow, that's harsh. What job is it?" Sam asks with a frown.

"A porn website," Chuck says with no apparent hint of shame. Sam isn't able to keep his surprise off his face. Chuck's not exactly the type to appear in porn videos. Not unless you had a fetish for short hairy men.

Which Sam supposes someone probably does.

"Um...what do you do there?"

"Oh it's this angel porn site," Chuck answers absently as he plucks through the new releases bin beside them. "Mostly I just make the wings look pretty and edit the videos. I don't know why Becky got so upset about it. I don't even like angel porn."

"You don't mean hardcorewings, do you?" Sam can't help asking.

If Chuck actually works at Dean's favorite website, Sam will never recover from the sheer epic awesome of that. Dean will literally die of envy.

"Oh god, please don't tell me you're a fan," Chuck says, wincing.

"Hell no, it's my brother. He's in love with one of your stars," Sam says. Normally, he wouldn't be sharing this kind of information with someone Dean doesn't know, but the name-calling had escalated beyond Sam's tolerance that morning. Dean deserves it, the asshole.

"Ew, really? Which one?"

Sam shrugs. "I don't know his name. Dean calls him Silver."

"Silver," Chuck says thoughtfully and then realization lights in his eyes. "It's probably Castiel. He's got silver wings."

"Sure, yeah. Him. Dean thinks he's God's gift to sex."

"Oh please, he's frigid. I mean, for a guy that takes off his clothes." A frown creeps over Chuck's features and he peeks at Sam out of the corner of one eye. "Uh, don't tell anyone I said that. I'm not really supposed to talk about the talent in public."

Good old Chuck. "Okay, yeah. So uh, what else have you been doing?" Sam asks, only half-listening as Chuck rambles on about a new girl he's interested in. He promises himself he won't tell anyone else that Silver is a prude.

But Dean has to know.

*******************

Gabriel calls it his research. Which Castiel really appreciates. Research sounds so much less disturbing than stalking for the purpose of masturbation fuel.

Not that it's the only reason to be hiding in a row of books about North American wildlife. He'd want to see Dean regardless, but now he actually needs the fantasies that so easily form in Castiel's brain when he peeks over the top of the books at his favorite librarian. Getting himself off two or three times a shift is no easy task. In fact, Castiel has been forced to diversify his fantasies for fear of becoming immune to Dean's charms.

Although right now, with his eyes firmly fixed on Dean's groin, it's hard to imagine that would happen. Those blue jeans he's wearing are really tight.

Castiel sighs. As much as he enjoys objectifying Dean, all this careful study has made Castiel's crush even worse. Dean's not just incredibly handsome; the little snippets of his life that Castiel manages to glean intrigue him beyond measure. Like the day when Dean's younger brother comes to drop off a snack and Castiel discovers that Dean's older than he realized. It makes Castiel wonder why a man in his late twenties is only just now completing an undergraduate degree. The way Dean teases his brother, calling him a girl for bringing Dean food and making fun of his long hair, reminds Castiel of his relationship with Gabriel. Which makes Castiel wonder if something happened to them to make them so close, like it did to him and Gabriel.

He wants to know everything. What kind of music Dean likes, what food he eats, what he's studying, whether he's dating someone.

Whether he likes dating males.

But Castiel is just too scared to talk to Dean. He's afraid Dean won't be able to see past his big clumsy wings or less than exciting personality. Castiel doesn't lack self esteem. He knows his strengths and weaknesses well and he's never been outgoing. Judging from the amount of people Dean knows by first name, he's quite popular and Castiel's not surprised. Dean's so full of life and energy, the people around him must feel so drawn to him. Castiel certainly does and he's never spoken one word to the man.

All he has are silly fantasies that help pay the bills.

A bleak kind of loneliness washes over Castiel and he slumps against the bookshelf.

He doesn't always want to be running after an illusion. It's truly unfortunate that Castiel's fetish for humans rivals any of his viewer's obsessions with angels. There's just something so appealing about their broad strong wingless bodies. Castiel doesn't like tangling wings with another angel. He much prefers the idea of drawing a human into a circle of feathers and hiding them both away from the world. He hates comparing wings. Most other angels end up annoyed or jealous by the comparison.

But he needs to be realistic. If he can't ever talk to Dean, he's only going to go mad pining after a dream. He either needs to pay more attention to his fellow angels, find a human who doesn't intimidate him or give up on the idea of partners all together.

"What're you up to tonight?"

The woman's voice startles Castiel out of his dismal thoughts. It's very close and quite familiar. Dean's co-worker Sarah. The answering voice is Dean's.

"I got me a hot date tonight," he says cheerfully.

Castiel slips out the other side of the aisle, a mess of jealousy and self-directed anger boiling in his chest.

He has to give up this fantasy.


	2. Chapter 2

"A hot date?" Sarah asks, one eyebrow raised. "With Mr. Right Hand?"

That girl knows him too well. Dean hadn't realized how much he dated around until he abruptly stopped and all his friends began commenting on it. It's not like Dean never wants to go out again. And yes, he's got a really pathetic crush on an internet porn star, but he'd have that anyway. Really, Dean has no idea why he's not been dating. Just the idea of going through all the trouble to score a hookup only to face the inevitable avoidance exhausts Dean. It's not worth it anymore.

"Don't make it sound so cheap, Sarah," Dean says. "It's love this time. I mean it."

"I'm sure you'll be very happy," she deadpans as she shelves another volume about frogs. Some biology class must have just had a research paper. The thought depresses Dean. He's got a term paper languishing on his laptop. To think his life has come to this. No sex and constant studying. If he wasn't so certain he hated the idea of the same dead-end garage job and crappy apartment his whole life, Dean would have lost his mind by now.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah." Dean frowns. "Why?"

"You had a really intense look on your face," she says, turning to lean against the nearby table. "You looked like you were having an epiphany."

"No, I just..."

Except she is right. Three years ago, Dean realized that his shitty job and boring life weren't worth it. So with Sam's help, he enrolled in college and now he's almost all the way through a nursing degree. It's possible he might have just realized that cheap hookups were just as worthless as his previous existence.

"Huh," Dean says.

"What?"

"I should probably date."

Sarah's expression turns bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"Like...dating. Actual dating," Dean says slowly, as if uncovering an utterly brilliant and new thought. Why hadn't he ever thought of this before? Having a real relationship. With regular sex and doing shit together and sleeping in the same bed. The more he thinks about it, the more excited he grows. All those stupid meaningless hookups were fun at the time, but Dean wants more.

He had no idea.

"Oh." Sarah grins and actually claps her hands. "Dean, that's brilliant! Do you have anyone in mind?"

Of course, the first person who comes to mind is Silver. Dean shakes his head. That's a fantasy. He needs someone real.

"I don't know anyone worthwhile," he confesses.

"Hmmm, well. What are you looking for? You're bi, right?"

Dean shrugs. "Not really, but kind of?"

He gets another bewildered expression.

"A guy," Dean says. "I want a guy."

"Wait, hold on."

Sarah goes to grab a notebook and orders to Dean to finish their shelving while she makes notes on his perfect man. The only problem being that Dean doesn't know what that is. Personality-wise anyway. So he ends up describing physical characteristics and by the time he's done, Sarah's grin has turned almost fiendish.

"You're a winger," she accuses lightly.

No sense denying it.

"Yeah."

"Well, it just so happens that I know an angel," Sarah says excitedly. "And he's single! Are you interested?"

"How should I know?" Dean says, even though his spine tingles with a familiar anticipation.

God, wings are so fucking hot.

"He's really handsome and funny and he's got these sort of sandy-colored wings," she describes. "His name is Balthazar. He lives in my building. So, can I set you up? Please?"

Sandy-colored. Not silver. Dean sighs. Never going to be silver, he tells himself. No one has silver wings like that. Not in real life.

Still, he has a feeling he's going to regret this.

"Uh, sure, I guess." 

****************

"What's the matter with you?"

Dean's been pacing around the living room for about fifteen minutes now while Sam cooks in the kitchen. It might not have made such an impression, but Dean's been so relaxed lately since he became obsessed with his internet angel.

"Sarah's setting me up with some guy," Dean mutters.

Surprise and relief mix in Sam's mind. He had been starting to worry that Dean had given up on dating altogether.

"That's good, right?"

Dean shrugs. "I guess. He's an angel."

That fact was not a surprise. Sam shakes his head fondly. He might tease Dean about his wing fetish and maybe he doesn't get the angel obsession, but angels are just like humans when it comes to dating. Their ideas about the world make no sense to Sam and it's hard to imagine Dean having anything in common with one, but Sam's seen stranger pairings. If nothing else, maybe dating an angel will erase the mystery about it and Dean will get over his obsession.

"You like angels," Sam says encouragingly.

"I did. I mean, I do," Dean blurts, pacing anew. "I haven't really been looking around. I mean, I think I might have been ruined on the whole angel thing."

Sam rolls his eyes.

"If you're talking about that stupid Silver person, someone told me today that he was a frigid prude, so maybe you're not missing anything."

The rush of emotions across Dean's face is comical. Indignation followed by anger that quickly melts into confusion and then suspicion.

"Who told you that?"

"You remember that guy Chuck that used to hang around when I was still in undergraduate? Short, scruffy kinda annoying guy?"

Irritation catches at Dean's eyes.

"That guy? How the fuck does he know anything about it?"

Now that Sam's telling Dean, he doesn't feel nearly so triumphant. In fact, he feels like an ass for talking about Dean's private matters, even with a friend. But if he hadn't been such a jerk that morning! Sam takes a deep breath to calm himself. He wouldn't be feeling so crappy if Dean weren't freaking out about the first potential date he's mentioned in weeks.

"That website is headquartered here in Lawrence."

Dean's eyes widen and he freezes in place.

"Here?" he says, almost a whisper.

"Apparently. Chuck works for them. Fluffing wings or something. He said that guy, Silver...well, his name is Castiel, I guess. Anyway, he said he's really uptight, so you're not missing anything."

The indignation returns and Sam expects a full rant about the wonders of Silver Castiel, but what Dean says is totally different.

"Are you telling me that annoying little shit has touched Silver's wings?"

Dear god.

"Castiel, Dean. And yes, Chuck has thoroughly fondled those wings," he says nastily, annoyed and worried over Dean's persistent crush. The dark scowl Dean throws his way doesn't make Sam feel any better. "It's his job."

The discontent on Dean's face abruptly falls away as a smile Sam does not like or trust grows on Dean's lips.

"Are they hiring?"

"Oh god," Sam groans.

*************

The thing is, Dean's not sure what he should do. Knowing that Silver...no, Castiel and isn't that name just perfect for him? Weird and kinda old-fashioned. That's what Castiel is. Not frigid. He's just...elegant.

Yes, even though he disrobes online.

But the knowledge that Castiel lives in the area crawls under Dean's skin and won't leave him alone. He's so close. The potential is so close. Dean could see him in the flesh. Breathe in his scent and feel his body heat soaking into his skin. Touch those fucking gorgeous wings.

The thought of it sends Dean into a long heated fantasy that usually involves Dean coming on Castiel's wings and tucking him into his side in bed.

Still, Dean isn’t so crazy that he doesn’t see how creepy it would be for him to track Castiel down. Although it would be simple. Castiel is not a common name. Dean doesn't even need a last name to know he'd be able to find him. But who in the world would want a scary stalker that hunts you down after watching hours of footage of you jerking off?

Dean doesn't want to frighten Castiel. He doesn't just want to fuck him. Although yes, he very much wants to do that. But there's more to it. Dean wants to hear his voice, speaking actual words instead of breathless moaning. He wants to know why Castiel took this job. Whether he likes it as much as Dean suspects he does. What the rest of his life is like.

Just anything.

The last thing Dean wants is to ruin that chance.

Plus, there's the date with Balthazar. He now really regrets telling Sarah she could set them up, but he doesn't want to back out. Not because of Balthazar. He could care less about him. But he doesn't want to disappoint Sarah after she went to the trouble.

So, after thinking it over for about thirty minutes in the shower, Dean decides he'll go on the date, tell Balthazar no thanks and then figure out Castiel.

Which is why he finds himself standing in the foyer of a too-expensive restaurant dressed in an outfit that's getting him strange looks from the staff. Apparently, this isn't a flannel kind of establishment.

"Um, I'm meeting a guy here? Balthazar?"

The hostess' tight smile eases slightly at his words.

"Oh, of course, sir. Mr. Steele is waiting for you," she says, gesturing for Dean to follow her.

Balthazar Steele? Dean makes a face. The atmosphere of this place makes him uncomfortable and the fact that hostess clearly knows Balthazar doesn't earn him any points. There are candles on the table, for pity's sake.

She leads him to a quiet private table near the back of the room. Waiting for him is a somewhat attractive fair-haired angel with medium length tan colored wings.

Nothing to write home about.

His eyes flick over Dean's body, all to clinical. He's being sized up and judging by the flare of disappointment in Balthazar's eyes, he's not anymore impressed than Dean. Which makes this easier actually, for all that it makes Dean want to puff out his chest and tell him to fuck off.

"Let me guess," Balthazar says, his voice smooth and touched by some kind of accent. "Sarah heard all about how you like angels and thought we'd just be perfect."

Dean falls into his seat and grabs a bread stick from a basket on the table.

"Yeah," he says with a snort.

"Sarah's a sweet lovely girl, but she's quite clueless," Balthazar says lightly.

Dean thinks he hears another message in there. He sips his glass of water and gives Balthazar a raised eyebrow.

"So if you like her, why are you here with me?"

"If you're in love with another angel, why are you here?" Balthazar shoots back.

"I'm not," Dean says, lip curling and that's the truth. Interested, yes, but Dean has no idea what Castiel is really like.

"Either way, I saw your expression when you looked at my wings," Balthazar says with a smile. He doesn't sound upset, but rather amused. "Not the wings you were hoping for."

"Shut up. At least I'm closer than you. At least I'm with the right gender," Dean grumbles.

"Whatever Sarah sends me, I'm willing to take," he says pleasantly.

"Why?"

"Because soon enough she'll understand why she's so determined to find me a partner."

Dean frowns. "That's messed up."

"Who's your angel?" Balthazar asks, turning the tables back on Dean.

He considers not answering. If Balthazar lives on Earth, he might have visited hardcorewings and Dean's not exactly eager to share with a total stranger his crush on an internet porn star. Then again, he doesn't have to say how he knows Castiel. And the angels come from a close-knit community. He might know some stuff about Castiel.

Glancing up at Balthazar's neutral expression, Dean decides to take the risk.

"His name is Castiel."

"Oh! I knew a Castiel once, years ago in school. Scrawny chap. Dark hair, blue eyes, absolutely obscene silver wings?"

While he's not sure about the 'scrawny' part now, it's possible Castiel was a skinny kid. Angelet. Whatever the hell they're called. The rest sounds like him.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Oh dear, you have your work cut out for you," Balthazar says, leaning down to rest his chin on one hand. "When I knew Castiel, he was fond of what we in Heaven call the wing shield."

"What the hell is that?"

"Hiding behind your wings," Balthazar explains. "By any standard, Castiel wasn't weak, but he was very reserved. He didn't like a lot of attention."

Dean stares. Could this really be the same man? The one who sprawls across that couch and touches himself with wanton abandon? That's hardly what Dean calls reserved and yet, here's another person telling him it's true. A person who actually knew Castiel for several years at least. His curiosity burns ever hotter.

"That's, um..."

Balthazar smiles at Dean's inability to respond. "Don't worry, love. Just be careful and do whatever the hell he wants and he'll be yours."

"Right. Thanks," Dean says with a slight eye roll. "Look, I'm just gonna get out of here."

Without waiting for Balthazar's answer, he stands and turns to go. But before he can, Dean pauses and glances back at Balthazar.

"Sarah likes a grand gesture. Maybe you shouldn't be careful," he advises.

He really hopes Sarah actually likes Balthazar. If not, he'll make a grand gesture of his own. Either way, Dean's got other things to worry about.

Like getting a new job.

**************

When Dean sees the pay rate, he decides that there are two very good reasons to be working at hardcorewings. His last job’s pay is nothing compared to what he'll be making here. It's a wrench to give up the library, but even if Dean only works the porn job for the rest of the semester, he'll be set for a year. Maybe that's the reason Castiel works here.

The interview goes well, all things considered. No one asks him if he's got a crazy wing fetish, but they do mention there'll be a background check, so Dean assumes they're looking for any weird wing-stalking incidents. Given the way his new boss leers at the talent, Dean thinks maybe it's not a problem anyway. So long as he doesn't bother anyone. Which he won't. He's not here to bug Castiel. He just wants to get to know him.

The only awkward moment comes when Dean ends up in the break room with Chuck on his first day. That's when he abruptly remembers that Sam told him about his crush on Castiel. Luckily, Chuck doesn't seem to recognize him. He just nods a greeting and gets back to sucking down an unhealthy amount of coffee. The red eyes and slight unpleasant odor wafting off him suggests a hangover. Come to think of it, Dean isn't sure Chuck ever met Dean while he was sober. He's not surprised the guy doesn't remember him.

Whatever. It saves Dean the trouble of bullying Chuck into silence.

Unfortunately, the rest of his day is rather boring. It's mostly a string of introductions and training. The job's not hard. Dean is responsible for keeping the various filming rooms cleaned up after the angels are done and for preparing the actors for their shows. It's not Chuck, but rather another fluffer named Pam who gives Dean a lesson in basic wing care on a bored looking angel named Lynn.

Castiel really has ruined him for other angels. Lynn's wings are a pretty bright white, but Dean doesn't feel anything other than determination to get her feathers all going in the same direction when he touches them. Pam explains to him that porn is a lot less interesting when you're the one who gets to fill up the lube pots and wash the sticky laundry.

"So if you're here for the sexy excitement, you've chosen the wrong career path, sugar," she says with a wink.

Dean chuckles. Easy flirting is just what he needs to keep his pulse calm.

"I don't need all that much help finding sexy excitement," he says back, even though it's apparently a lie.

"Oh I bet you don't." She gives him one long appraising look and makes a humming noise in the back of her throat. "Too bad you don't have wings. You'd be a hot commodity around here. No, not that way," she says, abruptly breaking from teasing to teaching. "The feathers along the edge should be puffed up. The wingers think it's hot."

"It is hot," Lynn comments, yawning. "To angels. Ya done yet? I got a show in five."

Huh. So porn really is boring if you're making it. Dean finishes the look, feeling rather proud of himself and watches Lynn trudge off to her next performance. When he glances back, Pam is giving him a thoughtful look.

"You're a natural," she says and then a grin breaks out. "You did come here to find sexy entertainment."

Dean does not blush and Pam does not stop laughing.

There's no sign of Castiel that day. Dean doesn't dare ask about him. The guy must have a day off now and again and besides, Dean wants to know the lay of the land before he meets Castiel face to face. He'd hate to meet him only to give him a really bad wingjob.

On the afternoon of his third day, while Dean is trying to decide which cleaner will get that stain out of the black armchair in Room 4, Pam suddenly appears in the door with an aggravated look on her face.

"Hey, Dean, ya busy?"

"Not unless you count a jizz mark an emergency," he says with a shrug.

"I don't. Come here," she orders, jerking her head with a nod down the hall. "I gotta take care of Lucifer right now." The way she says this gives Dean the impression that this Lucifer is a handful. "I need you to fluff Castiel."

Dean's heart leaps into his throat.

"Um, what?" he says stupidly.

"Sorry, I know you're mostly assigned to Lynn and Garel, but Chuck's 'sick'. I assume that means he's laying in a puddle of vomit somewhere," she says. Once she notices that Dean's stopped, she grabs his wrist and tugs him down the hallway. "Castiel is easy. He won't fuss, but it'll take forever. His wings are huge. Be careful with them or Crowley will have your head, okay?"

Dean can't think or talk, can't even nod. His pulse now races under his skin and he feels shaky, like he might lose the ability to stand soon. He stares at the door Pam has dragged him to and thinks to himself, Castiel is behind that door

"Dean?"

"Uh, yeah," he finally mutters. "Sure."

"Great. Good luck."

Dean curls his fingers around the brass handle and with a deep cleansing breath, he opens the door.

*************

Castiel is in a foul mood.

He spent the previous evening staying up too late working on a term paper he thought he'd finished until the professor abruptly changed the assignment on him. Gabriel then ruined what little sleep he managed to get by showing up in the middle of the night, drunken and giggling with his latest conquest. Even worse, when Castiel opened his bedroom door to yell at them, he discovered it was Jo the receptionist. Which makes the atmosphere strained when Castiel shows up for work that day. At least awkward for him. Jo just shrugs at him and seems to pretend he didn't seen her shirtless and gyrating in his brother's lap.

So he is tired and embarrassed. Never a good state to be in when you orgasm for a living.

But the real problem isn't the fatigue or the awkwardness.

It's that he hasn't seen Dean in almost two weeks. He tried so hard to stay away to save himself the pain, but it'd been a stressful week and Castiel just wanted one glance. One little glance to make himself feel better, but Dean wasn't there. Ever since Castiel started visiting the library to see him, Dean has kept the same schedule. Monday through Thursday from 3 PM until close and Sundays from 8AM to 4PM. That first time Dean didn't show, Castiel assumed he was out sick. He went by the second day to discover Dean still wasn't there. By the third day, Castiel began to worry Dean was seriously ill. When the new human showed up on the fourth day, Castiel couldn't stop himself from asking after Dean at the front desk.

"Dean Winchester? Oh, I'm sorry. He no longer works here."

As Castiel sits in his chair at work, stewing and glaring into his cup of coffee, he still feels the pulse of dismay he felt when he heard those words. Even finally learning Dean's last name doesn't make Castiel feel better. Sure, he could find Dean now, but there's a difference between haunting someone's workplace and tracking them down.

Right?

He doesn't know. It's all so confusing. His feelings for Dean can't possibly be as significant as they seem.

Maybe Dean being gone from his job is not a bad thing. Maybe it will force Castiel to forget him once and for all.

The door opens and Pam sticks her head in.

"Hey, Castiel, Chuck's out sick. You okay with the new guy fluffing you? Swear he's a cool guy," she says in a rush.

Lucifer must be throwing another fit.

"Yes, that's fine," Castiel says. It doesn't matter very much to him who touches his wings anymore. He's beginning to wonder if these fluffers are the only people who'll ever touch them again.

Stop being morose, Castiel scolds himself.

Oh well. No matter his mood, he needs to get ready for work. Dragging himself up from the chair, Castiel begins undressing. When he first started working at HCW, Castiel felt uncomfortable undressing in front of any live person. But he soon learned that taking his clothes off after a good fluffing just messes up his wings again. Besides, if he can be naked and hard in front of thousands of strangers, then one fluffer is hardly worth being upset over.

Once he's naked, Castiel stretches for a few moments, mostly to work out the kinks in his muscles from his unsatisfying night of sleep. He opens his right wing fully and groans lightly. Those muscles are overworked. Letting it drop, he then lifts the left wing for the same treatment.

It's when both wings are extended that the door opens again and Castiel hears a sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"Holy shit," the new voice says breathlessly.

Castiel closes his wings around his body and with a blush staining his cheeks, he turns, thinking to himself that he must be making a terrible first impression by displaying himself like that.

"Oh, I'm..."

His wings stiffen with shock. It's Dean. The man in the doorway staring hungrily at his wings is Dean Winchester. The absurdity of seeing Dean in this place, as if Castiel conjured him by the strength of his longing, throws Castiel's logic out of the window. He has absolutely no idea why Dean is here.

"Hey, sorry," Dean says, his perfect gruff voice even more utterly distracting when it's addressing him directly, "I didn't mean...I should have knocked. I didn't you'd be..."

His eyes flick down Castiel's naked body, lingering for a brief instant on Castiel's cock. The glance feels heavy, like a physical caress and it draws Castiel towards the beginning of an erection.

"Sorry," he says again. "I'm Dean. They said I should, uh...I should fluff your wings?"

Understanding slams into Castiel's mind. Oh god. Dean Winchester is his new fluffer.

Oh god.

************

This is such a horrible horrible idea. Dean's already so hard, he can barely walk and that's just from that fucking display he got when he walked into this room. Castiel's giant sloping wings risen in graceful arcs on either side of his naked body, the sensitive skin around his wing-joints fully exposed to Dean and an up close look at the perfect ass Dean's been daydreaming about for weeks now.

He's being so unprofessional, but he can't help himself. Castiel has him completely transfixed. Dean doesn't think he could leave now if he tried.

"My wings?" Castiel says weakly.

Hearing his voice does nothing to calm Dean's disobedient libido. It's just like his unreserved moaning, rough and deep and dragging along Dean's skin just as if Castiel were touching him.

"Uh, yeah. I'm supposed to make them all pretty. Not that you need it. I mean, not that they aren't already really gorgeous," Dean stammers foolishly. "Just you need them arranged for the show and I'm here to do it."

If Castiel minds his babbling, he doesn't show it. In fact, he's having trouble looking Dean in the eye. He wonders if this the famous timidity showing itself. There's nothing wrong with that. Who wouldn't be a little wary about being naked in front of a total stranger, right? Sam is crazy. Castiel isn't frigid. He's just shy.

"Is that okay?" Dean asks softly.

"Oh oh, yes, of course," Castiel says, abruptly springing into action.

He turns away from Dean, giving him another excuse to glance at his ass. Still a mistake, Dean thinks as his dick pulses against his pants. His only hope is that Castiel is too distracted by getting ready to notice the obvious bulge. He watches Castiel settle himself in the room's only chair. To Dean's surprise, Castiel's wings are fluttering wildly. A little nerves about a new fluffer shouldn't be causing this flurry of anxiety.

"I'm not making you nervous, am I?" Dean has to ask.

"No!" Castiel nearly shouts and then grabs fistfuls of wing, obviously to steady himself. "It's fine," he says more quietly. "You can start now."

The signals are confusing, but Dean has to trust that Castiel would tell him to get out if he was making him uncomfortable. He's got a job to do and so does Castiel. Dean can be professional. He can.

Even when faced with the reality of running his fingers through long silvery feathers.

God, his dick is aching.

Dean presses the heel of his palm hard against his groin to ease a bit of tension before approaching Castiel's side and grabbing the tube of wingcare product. He gives Castiel a reassuring smile and then steps around to his back, once more hiding from Castiel's view. Thankfully. As he assesses the state of Castiel's wings, Dean wonders if he should make small talk. Or if he even can make small talk. He's afraid he'll get halfway through a sentence and then break off into a moan at the feel of strong wing muscles flexing under his hands.

His cock twitches again and Dean bites his lower lip.

Right. No talking.

The wings are a little messy and the constant motion they're in isn't helping matter. Dean doesn't even know where to start. A few stray feathers at the bottom need plucking and the middle is in need of flattening. The top ridges are wild and fluffed up already though, which Dean finds curious. As if Castiel were already aroused. Still, it should make his job go faster.

"Are they alright?" Castiel asks quietly.

God, yes.

"Yeah, it's fine. Just trying to make a plan," Dean mutters vaguely.

There's nothing else for it. He's just going to have to dive in.

Dean reaches out and slowly draws the back of one hand down a thrashing silver mass.

Castiel lets out a short gasp and curls his fingers around the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white. The wings themselves stiffen once before relaxing and Dean nearly comes in his pants. The way they're moving is so similar to the videos, so exactly like a turned-on angel that all Dean's thoughts fall out of his brain and he finds himself gathering massive fistfuls of feathers into both hands, squeezing them between his fingers. Castiel's gasp turns a mewling noise and he squirms in his seat.

"Dean," he pants, effectively bringing Dean back to his senses.

"Sorry!" He lets go of the wings and steps back, appalled at himself. "God, I'm so sorry."

"No," Castiel breathes, leaning his elbows on his knees and shaking his head. "It's okay. Please don't stop."

There's no way Dean can refuse him, but he makes himself swear he'll be more professional. To that end, Dean immediately pours a dollop of wingcare product into his hands and begins rubbing it into Castiel's wings. There's nothing sexy about the sticky substance that will eventually soak into the wings as if it never existed, but feels at first like a cross between lube and shampoo. Whatever's bothering Castiel seems to dissipate. His breathing returns to normal as Dean carefully flattens the wings and then kneels down to pluck out the errant strays at the bottom.

The problem starts again when Dean stands to style the top ridges.

The feathers along his arches don't need any product. They're already puffier than Dean's ever seen them. All they need is a little encouragement to go in the right direction and Castiel will be set. And then Dean can escape this delightful torture.

When he runs his palm over the left arch, the wings flare straight out so suddenly and so forcefully that they knock over a nearby table.

"Are you okay?" Dean asks, surprised and not a little turned on by the obvious strength of the wings.

"I...no," Castiel rasps.

Dean steps around the slowly lowering right wing to get a good look at Castiel's face, fearful of anger or irritation.

That's not what he sees. Castiel's cheeks are reddened, his eyes glazed and lower lip swollen from biting. Dean's eyes wander from Castiel's flushed face down his heaving chest to the erection he'd been trying to hide. His lips part with surprise. Dean's seen this before. He knows exactly what Castiel looks like when he comes and he's not far from it.

"Oh," he says stupidly.

"I think I'm ready now," Castiel whispers.

"Oh. O-okay," Dean stutters. "I'll just..." He points his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll let you get to it?"

But Castiel's hand shoots out and grabs Dean's wrist, holding him from his escape.

"No, please. I want...I want you to watch."

Holy fuck.

************

The tips of Castiel's wings knot together as he stumbles across the room to set up his afternoon shoot. Dean's hot gaze follows his every step, but Castiel doesn't dare look back at him. Not yet. He's already too close. One brief touch along his dick right now and Castiel knows he'd come all over himself.

Dear god, the way Dean touched him. No one had ever touched him like that before. With such possessiveness, such obvious command. When he gripped Castiel's feathers so tightly in both hands, Castiel thought he'd black out from the pleasure.

It doesn't seem possible. Castiel feels certain he must have gone crazy and conjured up this wonderful dream of Dean being here. Being here and being just as affected by that wing grooming as Castiel was. That Dean even knew how to touch Castiel in exactly the right way, like another angel would know. It was all too perfect and when Dean mentioned leaving, Castiel couldn't let go. Not before getting the chance to see if maybe all this might actually be real.

He sneaks a glance over his shoulder. Dean's eyes practically glow with desire. His stance is rigid, dramatically so, as though holding himself from springing at Castiel. Castiel's own desire surges again, nearly cresting into a release. He grabs at the base of his erection and squeezes hard. Too soon. He's still got a job to do.

It takes him a moment of fumbling to get the camera started. He ignores the chat boxes on the computer attached to the camera. His regular viewers often make special requests for certain positions or toys and it always earns Castiel more money. But this performance isn't for them. It's for Dean.

The first thing he needs to do is ensure he can last through the show. He rummages through the box of toys until he finds what he's looking for, a shining metallic cock ring. When he glances over again, Castiel is amused by Dean's wide eyes. A part of him wants to ask Dean to help, but that would be terribly unprofessional. After all, Castiel has masturbated in front of his fluffers before. He's never asked them to help.

A slight hiss escapes his lips as Castiel carefully slips on the ring. It hurts a little, but once locked in place, relief pours cool through his heated veins. He selects his favorite toy as well, but sets it aside the couch. There'll be time for that later. What Dean wants now is something entirely different.

To begin, Castiel keeps his back to Dean and flexes his shoulder muscles. His ruffled feathers raise an inch, the arches bending towards his head for a brief moment. Behind him, he hears Dean sigh softly and he smiles to himself. He never imagined Dean would be a winger and for the first time in his life, the attraction to his wings makes him feel special. Maybe it's the way Dean's eyes roam over his entire body, full of not just lust, but longing. As if his attraction went deeper than just finding wings pretty. Like maybe Dean had always needed a wing shield and never realized it.

As Castiel lifts his right wing out to the side of his body, he places both palms on his bare stomach and imagines closing Dean into a protective circle of feathers.

A thumping noise makes Castiel glance over his shoulder. Dean's dragged the chair over right beside the camera and is now sitting, legs sprawled before him and one hand massaging his erection through his jeans. Castiel stares. Dean's not even trying to be subtle. In fact, when Castiel's eyes flick up, he sees a preening sort of smirk on Dean's lips.

Right. So that's how it's going to be.

It abruptly frees Castiel of any last remaining nerves. Both wings flare up, high above his head to hold steady for a split second for whooshing down through the air to slam hard into the floor. Dean's gasp fuels Castiel's sudden passion. He can make Dean crazy. The power of the notion is heady. His wings puff up once more, each individual feather fluttering on the trembling muscles of his wings. Castiel forces the left back around to his front and turns to face Dean, his wing covering his body from Dean's and his viewer's eyes. Dean's little frown pleases Castiel.

He begins stroking the feathers, stopping every so often to squeeze them the way Dean had. Each tight grip sends a wave of pleasure crashing through his body, sizzling along every nerve ending. He watches Dean's hand rub over the ridge of his cock at the same pace Castiel strokes the wing. So easy to imagine that they are reversed. That Dean is caressing his wing and Castiel is holding Dean's hard length in his palm. He curls a handful of feathers around his dick. The soft smooth feathers feel like silk on his tender flesh. Dean watches Castiel's hands intently, pupils dilated and lower lip caught between his teeth. So obviously picturing his own cock receiving the same treatment. That sense of power surges more strongly through Castiel. Being wanted like this has never felt so exhilarating.

Although Castiel isn't sure he has ever been wanted like this before. It makes him want to give Dean more.

The feathers slip away from his heated flesh, revealing himself to Dean's eager gaze. His dick pulses on the edge of pain, each brush of skin or feather sparking a hard jab of pleasure. This first show won't last as long as he hoped and suddenly, Castiel doesn't care. He forgets the show, throws himself down on the couch and lays each wing out on either side, draping them carelessly over both armrests. Spread out for Dean.

Only for Dean.

He grabs the pot of lube and scoops out a generous handful, immediately slicking his cock before reaching for the toy he'd picked. It's Castiel's favorite because it's simple, just a normal rubber dildo with a realistic shape and size. Something Castiel can easily pretend is the real thing thrusting deep inside. He lets his wings roll across the couch like great feathery ocean waves while reaching down to slide the dildo across his cock. Not the same, he thinks and in that moment, Castiel realizes whatever’s going on between them won't end here.

Not if he can help it.

************

Dean can't believe his luck. He couldn't have gotten a more perfect show if he paid for one. Hell, they're paying him to be here. Probably not to sit and grind his palm down onto his dick while watching Castiel slide a dildo into his ass, but if that's what the talent needs, then Dean's obligated to help out.

Reserved, his foot. A reserved person doesn't kneel before a total stranger, legs and wings both spread as far as they'll go, moaning shamelessly into the red velvety material of that couch as they pump a lube-slickened dildo inside themselves.

It's taking every ounce of Dean's will-power not to tear open his jeans and pull out his now painful erection. This is his favorite position of Castiel’s and now he's close enough to hear every whimper and breathy gasp. Close enough to shut off the camera and replace that dildo with his fingers or dick. The torture of being close enough to touch, but not having permission pushes Dean harder to the edge than he imagined it would. He's never been one to deny himself anything and yet the idea that he can look, but not touch is so fucking hot. Castiel is playing him so hard and Dean loves every second of it.

"D..d..." Castiel pants, never quite forming the name that would be all too easily heard on the video. With the regular one-time vids, the music covers all the delicious moans and words Castiel might say, but on the livestream, Dean knows from experience, everything is heard. He has to keep his own mouth shut against the urge to curse and beg, to direct Castiel the way he wants him.

Castiel suddenly adjusts his position, turning enough to one side that he can look over his shoulder at Dean and something about the new angle obviously agrees with him because his eyes widen and his lips part with surprise.

"Oh, oh!"

Fuck.

Dean's pleasure surges and he wants to shove his hand down his pants so bad, he can't stand it.

Please, please. The words press hard and desperate, nearly escaping. Dean bites his tongue, probably drawing blood, but the pain does nothing except urge the pleasure higher. God, Cas, please.

Harder and faster, Castiel thrusts back onto the dildo, fucking himself and making that little startled gasp that sends heat pulsing through Dean's veins. He's never seen Castiel lose control like this before, wings thrashing wildly, one hand clawing at the couch, eyes clamped shut when he's not throwing frantic glances over his shoulder at Dean. The right wing flaps hard once and then curls around Castiel's leg, pulling it further, spreading him wider.

Dean's going to lose it before this is over.

"Close," Castiel whispers. "Oh, oh, gonna...I need...oh!"

Castiel never talks. Not words, not these almost sentences so obviously meant for Dean's ears. He grabs at the ring holding his dick captive, clumsily fumbling it off and wrapping one hand into a tight fist around his cock.

Yeah, c'mon. Wanna see, Cas. C'mon.

"I need..."

He opens his lust glazed eyes to catch Dean's gaze and thrusts hard once.

"Need," he whimpers and then he's coming, wings stiffening hard, body shaking with the power of it. In his life, Dean has never seen anything so beautiful and perfect. His own muscles tremble against the effort of going to him, gathering Castiel to his chest and rubbing his dick against those fucking gorgeous wings until he's coming too.

Castiel falls limp against the couch, panting heavily as his wings slowly relax. Dean's not sure what he should do. If he should wait for Castiel to dismiss him or if he can leave now to find private relief in the employee bathroom. All he knows is that if he doesn't come soon, he might die from the pain of it.

Before he can make a decision, Castiel is getting up from the couch, a mellow satisfied expression on his face. To Dean's surprise, he goes straight to the camera and turns it off. Normally, he lets his viewers watch him enjoy the glow of content. But now the viewers are gone. It's just the two of them and Castiel is falling to his knees before Dean's chair.

"Cas?"

"Please, Dean," he says, his fingers lightly rubbing along Dean's inner thigh. "Please, can I?"

"Fuck, yes," Dean groans.

************

Castiel knows this could be a very bad idea. Besides the risk of being caught, Castiel always believed it a bad idea to jump into physical relationships before knowing your partner. But quite frankly, it's hard to care when he's kneeling between Dean's spread legs and looking up into dark hungry eyes. All he wants now is to make Dean feel as good as he made Castiel feel.

"Please, Dean," he asks, chancing a light touch over Dean's thigh, right alongside the curve of his trapped erection. "Please, can I?"

Dean's voice is raspy and wrecked when he answers, "Fuck, yes."

Another surge of that sweet sense of power washes over Castiel. He's too relaxed and spent to get hard again now, but it doesn't stop Castiel from enjoying the way Dean's breath catches when he unbuttons Dean's jeans and carefully tugs the zipper down. His dick jumps at the barest touch of Castiel's fingers.

"You sure about this?" he asks, his desperate tone edged with very real concern. A warm sensation begins to glow in Castiel's chest. He knows Gabriel thinks he's a virgin, but it's not true. Castiel had a few fumbled sexual encounters before leaving Heaven with two different angels he'd known his whole life. In both those cases, despite their long acquaintance, Castiel never really felt they cared about the sex beyond the moment when they found release.

He does not feel that way now.

"Quite sure," Castiel says as he peels the edge of Dean's underwear down over his erection.

Castiel likes Dean's cock. It's very like his favorite toy. Perhaps a bit thicker and definitely warmer, but the same perfect length. Castiel wants to know how it'd feel buried deeply in his body, but that's not for today. Today, Castiel wants to taste. He leans down to flick his tongue along the tip.

He only takes a brief pause to register the dark musky flavor and the low moan that vibrates in Dean's chest before wrapping his lips around the head and sucking hard.

"Fuck," Dean hisses, reaching out with clench his fingers around the arches of Castiel's wings. The action sparks an instinctual motion from both wings. The left curls around Dean's leg while the right slips in behind his back and pulls, forcing Dean's cock deeper into Castiel's mouth. Dean makes another noise, this one a strangled wordless bit of nonsense that tingles at the base of Castiel's spine. His body grows warmer, his desire to please more urgent. The smooth hard muscles of Dean's stomach and legs tremble under the strain of his obvious pleasure and after holding off release while Castiel performed for him, Castiel thinks Dean must be very close. He hopes to have more chances to draw out Dean's pleasure, but now, Castiel just wants to make Dean come.

So he doesn't waste anytime. He grasps the front of Dean's shirt to steady himself before eagerly sucking the entire length of Dean's cock in his mouth. Dean only just holds back a startled jump, but Castiel taps his hip, hoping Dean understands his permission.

Obviously he does.

"God," Dean mutters as he begins thrusting his cock in and out of Castiel's mouth. Shallow and gentle thrusts, but still effectively fucking Castiel's face.

It's amazing. He loves the way Dean trusts that Castiel can take him, but remains aware of his comfort. He loves sharing this intimacy, being filled by Dean while surrounding him with feathers and soft touches and warm wet heat. Dean's fingers skip along Castiel's wings, stopping now and again to clutch and tug as he moans and curses.

"Fuck, Cas, yes," Dean babbles, his hips snapping ever faster. "So fucking good."

The urge to smile stretches his lips and causes his teeth to catch lightly at the head, a very light touch, but apparently a shock because Dean abruptly stiffens and groans as he spills into Castiel's mouth.

"Shit, shit, sorry," he says, trying to push Castiel away. Castiel lets him, more to ease Dean's worry than out of any of his own, and immediately begins stroking Dean again, root to tip, easing Dean through the rest of his release. His wings close harder around Dean, pulling him closer and Castiel lays his cheek against Dean's thigh, now thoroughly tired and relaxed, as if he'd come again himself. Dean slumps in the chair. His hands slide from Castiel's feathers down to his hair, his fingers carding through the strands slowly and softly.

"Cas?"

Castiel nuzzles Dean's spent cock and presses a light kiss to the base. "No one's ever called me 'Cas' before," he comments.

"Oh." One of Dean's hands rests on Castiel's head. "Is it okay?"

Taking Dean's other hand in his own, Castiel threads their fingers together.

"Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm gonna get fired for this."

Castiel knows he should get up, especially now that Dean's brought up that very valid point. But he doesn't want to lose the easy intimacy growing between them. Soon enough, Castiel will have to let his wings drop from around Dean's waist. He'll have to lift his cheek from Dean's thigh and prepare for his second show. The thought makes his stomach hurt. He'd much rather push in closer and pretend for awhile that Dean belongs to him already.

"You won't. I'll quit if they do."

Dean's fingers sift through Castiel's hair. "You'd use your obvious star power on my behalf?"

His teasing tone lightens Castiel's slight melancholy. Perhaps his goals are not insurmountable if Dean's not feeling uncomfortable after their impromptu sexual encounter.

"Yes and Crowley would rather let us have sex in every room of his building than lose the profit he earns off me," Castiel states boldly, looking up to catch the way Dean's pupils dilate. Whether because of the mention of sex or because of his perceptions of Castiel's supposed power, he doesn't know.

"Yeah?"

"I don't suggest we try it," Castiel says, finally sitting up to stretch his back, his wings rising towards the ceiling. Dean's eyes follow their movement and Castiel smiles. He quite likes having Dean's eyes on his body. "I have to save my work orgasms for the camera."

The blissful admiration on Dean's face fades at the mention of his work, his eyes flicking to the camera. Castiel thinks he catches a flash of unhappiness in those pretty eyes before Dean's expression goes carefully blank.

"Right. Wouldn't want to deprive the audience."

Interesting. Jealousy already. That's probably a good sign. Castiel has no intention of keeping this job for a great deal longer. If it upsets Dean to have his boyfriend showing off on camera, Castiel has no problem quitting. So long as he gets to become Dean's boyfriend, that is.

"But I'm not always at work," Castiel reminds him, his voice dipping into a soft shy register he's never heard from himself before. Dean must like it because that admiration returns to his handsome features and he retakes Castiel's hand.

"I don't really get what's going on here. I mean, you don't…this isn't like…you're not seeing other...other guys?"

Castiel should probably be insulted at the implication, but as he's given Dean no other reason not think him terribly slutty, Castiel only feels pleased that Dean doesn't wish to share him.

"No, of course not. I don't regularly engage in oral sex with the fluffers."

To his surprise and delight, Dean actually blushes at Castiel's words.

"Good to know."

"Would you…could I see you? Away from work?"

"Sex first, then the date. I like the way your mind works," Dean says.

"I was hoping we'd have sex on the date as well."

"Fuck, yes. You're a genius."

Castiel smiles. This is going very well.

************

Dean feels certain Mr. Crowley wouldn't appreciate his behind the scenes employees going home with the talent. But when Castiel looks up at him with a shy expression that doesn't quite match a guy who just sucked him off and asks him if he'd like to have dinner at his house, Dean isn't about to say no. Screw it. He'll quit the job if that's a problem.

"Do you cook?" Dean asks as he watches Castiel dress. Which is surprisingly hot considering that Castiel is covering himself. The way he moves and manipulates those massive wings with such little effort makes Dean's dick perk up. Not enough for a repeat so soon, but hell, it's ammunition for dessert as far as he's concerned.

"Oh yes, I taught myself to cook when my brother and I left home," Castiel explains. His tone is pleasant enough, but Dean knows what hiding looks like. The shadow in Castiel's eyes intrigues him. He's never seen anything like it in Silver's performance. "I knew Gabriel wouldn't bother and I didn't want us to live on canned beans and toast."

"You live with your brother?" At Castiel's nod, Dean grins. "Me too. But I make Sam cook. It's my right as the older brother."

"That sounds frighteningly like something Gabriel would say," Castiel says. He threads one wing through a long tan trenchcoat and tugs it, his expression twisting with annoyance when the wing bunches up under the fabric. Dean leaps up from the chair.

"Let me help you."

Never, Dean thinks. Never in a million years if he could play with them all day every day would he ever get tired of touching Castiel's wings. They shine. Actually shine like metal they are so bright and Dean is mesmerized. It doesn't even occur to him that he might be freaking Castiel out with the way he gently strokes the feathers and rubs one between his thumb and forefinger. So very soft and light. Dean imagines sleeping under a blanket of these feathers. He'd probably never get out of bed

The wing Dean is neglecting suddenly closes around his waist and draws him forward into Castiel's space.

"You're a passionate winger," Castiel guesses and luckily he doesn't sound too upset about it.

Dean nods. "I'm not...I mean, I think you're...it's not just the wings," he struggles to say.

It must be a good thing to say because Castiel rewards him very handsomely with a deep exploring kiss that shakes Dean down to his toes. Holy fuck, it really isn't just the wings. The way Castiel kisses without holding anything back, like he wants Dean all to himself both confuses and excites Dean. He doesn't know what the hell a big dumb human has to offer an angel like this, but whatever Castiel wants, he can have.

"I never thought," Castiel mutters when he draws back, wiping the corner of his mouth with the tip of one finger. Dean thinks about sucking that finger into his mouth until he hears what Castiel had said.

"Never thought what?"

But instead of answering, Castiel just shakes his head and kisses Dean again, this time light and brief. "Do you like cheeseburgers?" he asks. "They are my best human dish."

Well, that about seals it for Dean. He cups Castiel's face with both hands and looks him straight in his pretty blue eyes.

"Marry me?"

Castiel hits him on the back of his head with the tip of one wing.

*************

Castiel's apartment isn't very big or particularly nice and that fact instantly puts Dean at ease. Not that he's not happy to be here with Cas, but it's always kind of weird going into someone else's house for the first time and given what Dean has shelled out to watch Silver's vids, he thought Cas would be living in a palace. This cramped dumpy little student apartment isn't all that different from Dean's place.

"Nice," he says with a smile. 

Castiel narrows his bright eyes at Dean, as though contemplating whether he's being teased or not. Before Dean can assure him he means it, Cas' lips quirk up in a shy smile that makes Dean's heart thud in his chest.

"Thank you. It's not much, I realize, but it's the first home that was really mine. The first since I left my parents," Castiel confesses. Without knowing him better, Dean can’t be sure, but he thinks he hears a bit of sadness in Cas' tone. That won't do. The second Cas gets the door closed, Dean has him pinned against it, kissing hard and long and deep.

"I'd ask you about how you got here, but it sounds like a fucking depressing topic and how about we leave that crap till later, huh?" Dean says before brushing another softer kiss across Cas' lips. It's the only way he knows how to say that he wants to see Castiel for more than just the one date.

It looks like Cas is having trouble focusing. At least on anything, but Dean's mouth. But after a slight struggle, he nods slowly and that sweet shy smile appears once more, determined to pretty much destroy Dean. It's moments like these where Dean has trouble believing this is the same man that strips for a living and blew him right after meeting Dean the first time. He likes the weird combination.

"You're weird, you know that?" Dean says.

He tries not to wince at how fond he sounds.

"So I've been told," Castiel says and his voice sounds so much the same as Dean’s that it relaxes him. "Alright, so no childhood stories for now. Would you help me cook and maybe…tell me about your life at present?"

Seriously, no one who shoves a dildo so far inside themselves on camera should sound so formal. Definitely a weirdo.

"Sure, except I really can't cook, I wasn't lying about that."

"Can you chop?"

"I can definitely cut things," Dean confirms.

The best part about cooking with Cas is trying to squeeze two grown men and a massive pair of twitchy wings into his tiny kitchen. No matter which way Dean turns, he's got feathers rubbing against him. So he's pretty much in Heaven. The second best part is watching Cas' hands while he peels potatoes, shapes burgers and sautés mushrooms. His hands look so smooth, like he hadn't done much strenuous work in his youth. Dean loses track of his own hands thinking about Castiel trailing those long elegant fingers across his body and nearly chops off his thumb as he cuts up the potatoes.

Luckily Castiel doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy rapid-firing questions at Dean. Questions about his home, his family, his education, his former job. Anything and everything he can think of. Each answer makes something light in Cas' eyes that Dean doesn't quite understand. Just somehow hearing these things about his life is making Castiel inexplicably happy. It's a bit overwhelming, if truth be told. Dean's not used to someone he's fucking actually giving a shit about him for more than his looks.

"What about you?" Dean asks as he watches Castiel dump the potatoes into hot oil. "Do you do anything besides make insanely sexy videos online?"

A faint blush coloring Cas' cheeks only makes the sexy thing more obvious.

"Oh, I'm a student. I'm-"

A commotion at the front door breaks off Cas mid-speech, his eyes growing round as they both hear a pair of feet stamping and a loud voice start to bellow.

"You here, Cassy? I got cut from work early tonight. Oh my god, are you making hamburgers? I love you so-...oh." The voice's owner appears at the kitchen door. Dean figures it has to be Castiel's brother, though he's got nothing on Cas in the looks department. His wings are short and plain white. Dean turns to Cas to ask for confirmation, but stops short at the look of terror on Castiel's face.

"Gabriel-" Cas says, hurrying forward, but before he can say another word, gleeful pleasure explodes across Gabriel's expression.

"Oh this has to be Dean. I can't believe you finally got up the courage to talk to him! And what, after only four months now? I'm so proud of you," he exclaims, throwing an arm over Castiel's shoulder.

Dean stares at Castiel, every single bit of his brain power halting on just two words.  
"….four months?"

***********

"Four months?"

Dean's voice dips low and shocked and why not? He thinks they just met. Granted their relationship jumped several important steps, but as far as Dean is concerned, they took those steps at the same time. Until Gabriel opened his insufferable loose lips, Dean had no idea Castiel had been pining after him like a pathetic pre-teen for months on end.

"I...Dean, I can explain," he starts.

"Explain what?" Gabriel asks as he drops his arm away from Castiel's shoulder and walks over to the stove to smell the still cooking food. "If he's here anyway, he's probably flattered by all the creepy stalking."

"Gabriel," Castiel snaps, anger fueled by humiliation sharpening his tone. "Leave us."

The good thing about Gabriel is that once he realizes he's done something to piss off his brother, he'll do just about anything to make it all better. One of the more pleasing results of practically raising his brother when absent parents left the job unattended.

Although at the moment, Castiel is not inclined to think well of Gabriel. Not even when his brother winces an apologetic expression to Castiel before disappearing quickly down the hall, leaving Castiel alone with a silent and stunned Dean.

"Dean, I'm..." Castiel can't bear looking at Dean's face for long. He spins towards the food, only just saving one burger from crispy death. "I apologize," he says softly. "I should have told you. I just...I wasn't..."

There really isn't a way of apologizing for stalking someone and then having sex with them without confessing.

"Four months?" Dean repeats, but now his tone has changed. Instead of shock, Castiel hears disbelief and a rough-edged hint of emotion he can't identify.

"I saw you." Castiel takes the pan off the burner, but stays facing away from Dean, embarrassed of the way his pale cheeks have surely turned red. He can barely choke out his next words. "At the library. You were so...I'd never seen anyone so beautiful."

"All this time," Castiel hears Dean mutter and he's surprisingly close. Right behind Castiel, a warm solid presence at his back. "You watched me?"

"I'm sorry." Castiel can't say it enough. His fists clench at his side. "I know this must be so awkward for you-"

Dean's hands suddenly fall on Castiel's hips, gripping him hard enough to leave marks. Castiel's words break off with a startled moan. Dean moved in closer, covering Castiel's body with his own from shoulder to knee.

"Did you think about me?" he asks, lips almost brushing Castiel's neck. The warmth of his breath draws shivers all the way to the tips of Castiel's wildly puffing wings.

"W-what?" Castiel stutters.

Dean squeezes his hips and presses a gentle kiss to one of Castiel's wing-joints. His left wing shoots straight out, nearly crushing in the door of his cereal cabinet.

"In the videos. When you were touching yourself, were you thinking about me?"

Castiel must look so obvious, his arch feathers standing on end, but he can't stop himself. Not with Dean speaking in that wrecked tone and already so obviously hard against Castiel's ass.

"I...yes," Castiel breathes. "Almost every time."

"Fuck," Dean hisses right before he completely loses it. With surprising strength, Dean manages to flip Castiel around and hoist him up on a nearby counter. Castiel's arms and wings both instinctively wrap around him, trapping Dean as much as he's trapped Castiel. As Dean's mouth finds his, Castiel can't help wondering how he managed to find the one person in the world who finds aggressive stalking a complete turn-on.

It's the last rational thought he has for a very long time.


End file.
